


Merry Go Round of Life

by babybackbitch



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Grief/Mourning, I have alot of trauma and I will share it the only way I know how, Poetry, Poverty, The Ocean is A Terrible Place, dead parent tingz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27560272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybackbitch/pseuds/babybackbitch
Summary: I'm dumping all the poems I write in here. Some of these I wrote for school. Most of them are about my dead father.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Death is Quite Rude

This was once a love poem,  
familial love of course,  
til the chill of death,  
reached with open arms.  
An embrace to die for.

Father and daughter,  
Daughter and father.  
“Does death make you shiver?”, the daughter asks.  
The father cannot answer.  
Words lost on the tongue, lips blue and cold  
Neck pierced, blood dripping, three souls, now two, fumbling hands, a splash of water,  
Cold seawater.  
“How long will it take for you to be found?”, the vile pair ask.  
“Days.” says a dead man.  
A family, a dream, a life, all gone in one night,  
The daughter learns to fear the sea.  
Does she?

One, two, three, four, deaths.  
How fitting.  
Four, shi, or 死.  
An unlucky number.  
The family mourns,  
We still mourn.  
Who will be the fifth?

Brother and sister,  
Sister and brother.  
“Does cremation make you shiver?” the sister asks.  
The brother cannot answer.  
His body still, heart barely beating, chest burning for oxygen,  
Til nothing.  
No beat, no rise of his chest, no breathe, no warmth, no struggle,  
Til nothing.  
“We did all that we could do.”, the doctor says.  
The sister learns to cherish every breath.  
Does she?

Her brother was the fifth.  
“Why aren’t funerals brighter?” asks the ~~daughter, sister~~ , girl.  
‘“Death is not something to rejoice.” a quiet voice whispers.  
“I don’t want to celebrate death, I want to celebrate the life of the ones now with death.” the girl replied.  
The girl didn’t cry at her father’s funeral. She won’t cry at this one either.  
“Who will be the sixth?”, the girl pleads.  
She gets no answer.


	2. The Ocean, Envy, and I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets hope no one I know irl finds this.

I haven’t visited the ocean in years

It was your favorite place

I have forgotten the taste of the sea

But When I remember you,

I cry.

As tears drip over my lips

I taste it

The whole ocean

In my mouth

At times like this

I envy Icarus


	3. Taste of Poverty

For me  
Poverty tastes like  
Chicken over rice  
Eggs and rice  
Eggs and grits  
You cannot go wrong  
For 89 cents a carton  
Poverty tastes like   
Sapocho  
My families own creation  
Combination of sancocho and su pao  
But   
No matter how good the food is  
No matter how full I am  
I still hunger for more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more school poems. I'll post some of my non school ones later.


	4. They Do Not Know

Rows of plastic chairs  
All connected  
A sight I hate to see  
We wait for our name to be called  
We hear the defensive single mother   
We feel the judgment   
We hear the rude guard  
They do not know  
How we came to be here  
They do not know  
Our mother’s pain  
Our mother’s stroke  
They do not know  
About our father  
A man whose kindness   
Cost him his life  
They do not know  
How expensive funeral costs can be  
We bite our tongues and rein away rage  
Because we know  
They do not care


	5. We Wait

We wait 

We’re all smashed into the hot room 

Plastic chairs with suspicious stains

Row by row

We wait 

Snickerdoodle cookies wrapped in plastic

Makes me sick

We hear the defensive single mother 

We feel the judgment 

We feel the poverty

We wait 

They decide our fate 

Do they realize how much it hurts

Our entire lives

In their hands

They forget that 

We are trying our best 


	6. This is trash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at like 5 am when I just woke up so I wouldn’t forget it. Ima make this into multiple poems later, this ‘poem’ is just like a massive blob of ideas for short stories and poems all in one. I used some lyrics from uhhh a song on YouTube about Technoblade. Just search up the first line if you wanna check it out. I need to stop acting like anyone is gonna read this.

What if I want to be on the bad-bad side?

And what if I want to spread the fire and start the turmoil?

Blood for the blood God,

Warrior forevermore

This god never dies. 

Names of my enemies, written in dripping burgundy

I never kill softly

I have told you this time and time again,

I only speak in violence,

Do you think a god like me has the need to lie? 

Step down from the throne but don’t bow, power means nothing to me

I am a god with no temples, no worshippers, no statues dedicated to the my glory

Chaos is my lover, violence is my best friend

Blood for the blood god,

Warrior forevermore

This god will never die.


	7. what up whores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is just school poetry. can you guess what book we're reading?

Old sport, I can’t see,

The white, the blue, the green

The green.

It blinds me.

Nick.

I need to cross the sea.

It pulls me down,

The green light is fading.

I need to see her. 

Where is my light?


End file.
